


Across the River of Time

by DK65



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: 18th Century, Alternate Universe - Bollywood, Alternate Universe - Renaissance, Alternate Universe - World War II, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 10:47:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7168016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DK65/pseuds/DK65
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon Snow and Sansa Stark in various alternative universes...<br/>These characters belong to GRRM.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jaggu Dada Takes a Wife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bollywood star Jon Snow meets lawyer Sansa Stark...  
> These characters belong to GRRM.

Jaggannath, known as Jaggu Dada to his many fans in India and the world over, should have been a happy man. He was doing well financially, after having been discovered while working as an extra on a movie set some ten years ago. He'd just finished college, combining a BA with a law degree; the stint as an extra was, as he told his mother and himself, just some time to let his hair down. He'd always worked hard at study and play all his life; his mother, a single woman, was a playback singer and composer in the Bollywood film industry. Jaggu had learned to not ask her too many questions, about his father or her family of origin. She seldom spoke of either. She saw to it that he was clothed and fed, and encouraged him to do well at school. Unlike many who worked in Bollywood, she did not take that fishbowl for the world. She'd had a difficult time establishing herself as a playback singer, because the Mangeshkar sisters were still running strong. But as they grew older and new film makers entered the industry, her voice and ability to create music was appreciated.

Jaggu had always been a good student and an excellent sportsman. Although he'd scored well in his finals, it was his ability as an athelete that got him a seat in college. And on the film set too, when the hero, who was supposed to play the part of a swashbuckler, proved to be sadly inadequate, because he'd chosen to begin sipping a Scotch at three pm, not six, Jaggu was given a chance. The producer, a large, bear-like man by the name of Javed Mahmood, had grown increasingly impatient with the hero's antics. The man, who had once been the toast of millions across the length and breadth of the country, was nowadays too sozzled to shoot. And Javedbhai had had enough of him. So the director, a scowling baldy by the name of Sridhar Bharatidasan, had dragged Jaggu out of the line of extras and shoved him, protesting feebly, into the costume that had not fit the hero. And so, Jaggu Dada, the latest Mumbai superstar, was born. Jaggannath Sardesai, bar-at-law and judge-to-be, exited the scene, only to appear when contracts were to be signed and sealed.

And so, Jaggu Dada should have been a happy man, if it had not been for all the gossip magazines that paired him and almost married him off to every woman who was (un)lucky enough to be his co-star. There was Yashodhara, the fiery Tamilian actress, who could shoot anything at any distance and played cop to his charming rogue of a robber in one of his earlier films. There was Vanalata, the cool, poised Bengali beauty, who played princess to his scruffy photographer-cum-journalist in the Indian version of Roman Holiday (where he ended up marrying her). And then there was Darya, the Russian ballerina he was supposed to romance as a secret agent-cum-bodyguard, when she came to perform in India. And then there were the hundreds and thousands of letters from girls, some as young as twelve and thirteen, who wanted to marry him. He wondered in horror what had happened to the parents; didn't they supervise their daughters strictly? He thought girls were only supposed to marry guys chosen by their parents; they should not be permitted to write such explicit letters to men like him.

"Oh, come on, Jaggu! Don't you understand?" snapped Sudeshna, impatiently. She was a tall, slender girl--she had inherited a reddish tinge to her hair and grey-blue eyes from her Kashmiri mother, Kulsum. Her father, Nand Kishore Sharma, a die-hard communist and fighter for the common man, was the lawyer with whom Jagannath Sardesai was to have worked, to free undertrials from unjust confinement. Instead, it was Sudeshna and her sister Anandita who were working for their father; their brother Rabindranath, who was studying law and governance in JNU, was totally opposed to the state in its present form.

"These girls are not allowed to go about freely and mix with boys of their own age; their parents are so afraid that they will behave in a fast and loose manner. They have little or no choice in their lives; their parents control whom they meet, what they study, what they eat, what they wear, whom they marry... Their only outlet is to fantasize about guys like you," she said with a laugh. "If you were to land up on their doorstep, offering marriage, you'd be thrown out by the parents and the girl would run to her room, crying. I used to be one of them, long ago." She sounded almost nostalgic as she spoke, and since she spoke so little, he listened attentively.

Of course, she helped her father get undertrials out of jail and back to their families; many of them were poor men, picked up by the cops anxious to assure their political bosses that they were catching the bad guys anytime a robbery or a riot took place. They'd ensure that forensic evidence was collected and examined and the police reprimanded, if they had tortured the suspect to get a confession and make their job easier. It was a thankless task; they were often castigated by politicians such as Tikku Lalwani of the saffron fringe for encouraging criminals, if not the criminal-terrorist network. And he'd taken to abusing Nand Kishore for all that he held sacred, which almost drove Anandita to organize a stone- and rotten egg pelting attack on him during a public meeting. Sudeshna, who was usually a believer in pacifism, was the first to reach the police station, along with Jaggu, to post bail for Anandita and her associates. Tikku Lalwani, who still looked fit despite his sixty-odd years, stood there glaring, his balding head covered with runny egg yolks that smelt as though they were well past their sell-by date.

"You know, Mr Lalwani," Sudeshna said sweetly as they stood inside the police station, "my sister has done you a favour. Eggs are very good for your complexion; this will give you a very youthful glow." Jaggu tried hard not to laugh, but Trimbakrao Ghatge, a family friend of the Sardesais and the Sharmas, guffawed loudly, earning a glare from Lalwani.

But Sudeshna, in her own way, was as much an activist as her brother Rabi. Whereas Rabi, who spent hours in the library, poring over the writings of Marx, Bhagat Singh, Nehru, Ambedkar and Lenin, to create a united front of Ambedkarite and progressive forces, was known to lead processions to Jantar Mantar in Delhi and castigate the government of the day at full volume several times a year, Sudeshna was known to participate in movements to remove regressive laws, such as Sections 377 and 124(a). He often wondered why she did it; wasn't she doing enough, just fighting alongside her father? 

But she disagreed with him. "I knew someone, when I was a very young girl, just like those girls who write to you," she said. "I quite fell in love with him; he was a cricketer, a very stylish player. He was the best. And I hoped, I really hoped, he felt about me the way I felt about him. I was too shy to write these sort of letters to him, but I used to day-dream. And then a team-mate of his--remember a bowler by the name of Ravishankar Bharatidasan? Yes, he was your director's younger brother, wasn't he? He died in mysterious circumstances. And Lokesh Tandon, who had once been tipped to lead the Indian cricket team, gave up the game. He went back to his family's farm in Karnataka and became a complete recluse. I knew his sister Meenakshi--she was a few years older than me. And she was involved with this movement, as is Bharatidasan. I just hope," and her voice almost broke as she whispered the last words, "that these laws are taken off the books. They're a remnant of our colonial past--they no longer exist in the UK. And they should no longer exist here either." There was a certain steely resolve in what she said.

Suddenly, Jaggu wondered what it would be like to be married to a woman like Sudeshna; a woman with a mind of her own, a life and passions of her own outside the four walls of their marriage. It would add so much more to their relationship if his wife worked in a field where she was her own person, not just his wife or his one-time co-star. And she got along with his mother very well indeed; in fact, she was the one who now handled Amma's contracts, as her father became increasingly involved in fighting off Tikku Lalwani's pernicious influence on his beloved country. But Jaggu would have to ask her first, before he even spoke of it to Amma or her father. And he would have to proceed carefully, so that he did not alarm her.

Jaggu knew, from what Rabi and Trimbak had told him, that proposals had sprouted forth for Sudeshna's hand in marriage even before she had crossed her teens. "There was that horrible boy, Bharatidasan's nephew, his eldest brother's son, on whom Anandita set the family dog," Trimbak would recall, after a beer too many. "And then there was Harish, Professor Awasthi's adopted son, who was carrying on with half the girls in and out of college. Just think--one of his girlfriends, who was a maid in his aunt's house, had given birth to a child; the other girl was the daughter of the local grocer and he'd promised her marriage! Of course, Sharma sahib said no to both, even though Bharatidasan's eldest brother had been his friend in college."

"Don't forget that horrible boy, Ramesh Bhalla, Dr Bhalla's son. He even tried to kidnap the girls--I think Shagird, the family dog, came to the rescue yet again," Rabi would say with a sigh. Neither he nor Trimbak cared much for Dr Bhalla with his cold grey eyes and soft voice. And Rabi had used the failed kidnapping to insist that his parents change their family physician forthwith. 

Jaggu recalled something more unpleasant--the way that Sudeshna's uncle by marriage, Pinaki Basu, who was married to her mother's sister Laylah, looked at her when he came to visit the Sharmas in Mumbai. He'd spoken to his mother about this and asked her to speak to Sharma sahib and Mrs Sharma about it. He was glad to note that Mr Basu was no longer seen in the Sharma household.

He knew that he would be dealing with a woman on her guard. And because of her work in the courtroom, Sudeshna would not have the typical illusions of a young girl about love and marriage. He did not want to talk to Trimbak about this, because Trimbak's approach to women was to woo them, win them and forget about them. Jaggu remembered some girl Trimbak had got into the family way; her father was a sailor and she'd landed up at his flat, because Trimbak had boasted about knowing him really well. Of course he yelled at Trimbak, but he did so after taking the girl to his sister, Asawari, who managed the Ghatge's fishing trawler business, now that her father had retired. And Asawari had given the girl a job and a place to stay. She had even recognized the child as her brother's and was bringing it up, much to Trimbak's embarrasment. 

Jaggu went to see his friend Someshwar Talwar, who assisted several lawyers, including the Sharmas, with research. Someshwar would never make a courtroom lawyer, much to the disgust of his litigator father, Ramdayal Talwar, who had practically disowned him. But he knew which case you could quote to make a point in the courtroom, and he could find it for you in a moment. He'd married Girija, who'd come to the Sharmas to sue her father for sexual abuse. He'd stood by her as she fought her case and won. Her father spent the rest of his life in jail.

Som listened to what Jaggu had to say and then asked, "You're really, truly fond of her? You're not just trying to patao her because you want to get married? You do realise, don't you, that all this activism that she does isn't just so she can get into the papers? She really believes in all of this and none of the others would have ever let her have her own life. And you have to do that, or you will make her unhappy."

Jaggu nodded his head. "I've never been into activism--I've had no time to think about society or other people, even though I haven't liked what I have seen. I've just been too busy. At first, it was school and college; I wanted to do well to make Amma proud. And then, with the films, I didn't want to let down Javedbhai or Sridharji. They had staked their reputations on giving me a chance. I wanted to do them proud. But now that I have some security, for myself and Amma, I would like to make a difference. And I think Sudeshna can teach me to do that. I like the kind of person she is--she's learned to speak her mind. She was always so careful as a young girl; she hated offending people And then she became more courageous."

To the bewilderment of his many fans, Jaggu Dada became a regular at all the demonstrations and sit-ins in which Sudeshna Sharma participated. Most of his fans in UP, Haryana and Bihar were horrified--was Jaggu Dada, they whispered amongst themselves, inclined that way or was he (gasp!) veering towards anti-nationalism? The gossip soon reached social media and the issue was raised by one Ms Mallika, the glamourous hostess of a television talk show, who stood out because of her hennaed hair and scarlet sarees. Rumour had it that she and Sridhar Bharatidasan had something going on the side. And rumour, in this case, was not wrong.

So when he was asked about his sexual proclivities (because, although he had been linked with many women, very few knew the truth of these so-called affairs) and his political leanings, Jaggu responded with becoming gravity. "I'm not a homosexual," he said on Mallika's show, "but I don't think Section 377 should exist. It's a Victorian law, a legacy of colonial slavery. No one has the right to tell an adult what to do in their bedroom or how to do it. As for 'anti-national', as a former student of law, Mallika, I should tell your audience that there is no law that criminalizes anti-nationalism. In a democracy, you have every right to dissent or disagree with the government--you are a citizen, not a subject. Sedition defines the relationship between a king and a subject, which is why it should no longer be applied in Indian courts...." And so on and so forth.

No one knew how well this display of gyan went down with Jaggu Dada's followers in the hinterlands, but it did gain him some fans in the more progressive sections of society. Rabi's classmates were delighted to learn that he and Jaggu had actually grown up together; they urged him to bring Jaggu Dada to JNU, to tell them what he thought of the idea of the nation and azaadi. As his friend, Jayati Waghmare, explained, "We need a Jaggu Dada on our side to counter the filmi people the government has on its side. The fact that he's a former law student and not just a film star is an additional factor in his favour."

It wasn't Sudeshna but Anandita who confronted Jaggu on his sudden involvement in social activism. "Baat kya hai?" she wanted to know. "Has my sister got you so hot and bothered that you now have to go shouting in demos and get beaten by the cops to show your love?" The worst of it was that she chose to confront him, surrounded by her friends, who mirrored her stance--hands on their hips and smirks on their lips.

"Nothing of the sort," Jaggu tried to reassure her, "I have the greatest respect for your sister..."

"But you don't look upon her as your own sister, I hope?" Anandita laughed as she spoke. "Perhaps you should come clean with Sudeshna, and see what she has to say. I know she was quite horrified by all the men running after her when she was a young girl, which is why she took to the study of law. She felt if they thought she was cleverer than them, they would not pursue her. And now, these demos are all she has of a social life. Other than the time she spends with the family and your mother, of course."  
She said this as she grabbed his arm and walked him away from her gang.

So that was enough to set Jaggu thinking. He could not take Sudeshna out without dragging her name into the gossip magazines. But he could call her home for a meal--Amma would not object. It was fortunate for him that he chose a day on which his mother would leave immediately after lunch for a meeting with a producer who wanted her to score the music for his latest opus. So while Amma had a quick lunch and made an equally quick exit, giving them both a kiss, he and Sudeshna sat down to talk. She had the rest of the day off--he'd checked up on her schedule with Anandita before he made the date.

She kicked off her fancy sandals, crossed her legs and sat down on the stool, before she faced him, as he lounged, seemingly at his ease, in an arm-chair. "Jaggu, what's the matter? I hope you're not in any legal trouble and too scared to talk to Papa about it?"

"No, no, of course not," he assured her. "It's just that... you know... I've been thinking about marriage. I would like to ... you know... settle down. Amma has said nothing about it..."

"And you know she won't--she's seen too much of filmi marriages to push you into one. She's seen too many break up." Sudeshna interrupted. "Do you want me to look for a girl for you?" she asked, grinning. "I could suggest Meenakshi--she's not at all bad-looking..."

"No, I don't want you to look for a girl for me," Jaggu was suddenly very annoyed with her. Was she teasing him or being deliberately dense. "I'd like you to marry me. I want you to continue doing what you do--I like you just the way you are."

She looked at him, wide-eyed, her lips pursed. "Usually, Jaggu, any man who marries a woman expects her to give up her work and become a part of his life. And yet, you want me to do exactly the opposite?" She spoke almost in a whisper, as if she was totally surprised.

"Yes, I do." he said firmly.

"You know this will mean that I won't be the typical star wife like Chandrika Lalwani Bharatidasan? She's always there for her husband's premieres, even though she hates his guts."

"I will absolutely forbid you to be like Chandrika Lalwani Bharatidasan," he almost shouted at her.

"Well, I won't have the excuse she has," she laughed at him. "I've never seen you take more than a glass of wine in any social situation; I've never seen you make a fool of yourself with extras, however good-looking and I don't think you have it in you to be an unfaithful husband. But what I wanted to say was this: I might not always be there for you when you have a premiere or any other celebration, because I will be working on something or the other, but I will always be thinking about you."

"That is just what I want from our marriage," He assured her. "I might be away shooting anywhere in the world, with the most gorgeous co-stars, but I will always have you in my heart and my mind."

"So then we have a deal," she grinned cheekily at him and stretched out her hand, which he took in his own. "Yes, we do," he said happily.


	2. Love in a Warm Climate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Professor Snow and Miss Stark do their bit in World War II Egypt.  
> These characters belong to GRRM.

It was lovely, sunny weather here in Egypt; Sansa hoped Mama and the children were safe and comfortable back home. She had not wanted to leave for this assignment; she feared, and she did not want to voice her fear, that she would never see her family again. Hitler had already invaded France; her father had died trying to rescue soldiers from the beaches of Dunkirk and Robb, her older brother, had just escaped with his regiment before the Germans took over. She'd been in London then, working as a governess with Mrs Cersei Lannister-Baratheon. General Baratheon had been killed in the fighting, and Mrs Lannister-Baratheon was quite determined to return home to sunny California before Hitler invaded Great Britain, as he had threatened to do. Her son, Joffrey, who was only a year older than Sansa, should have stayed behind to fight, but he was just as keen as his mother to put the Atlantic between himself and Hitler. The two younger children, Tommen and Myrcella, were very different; Tommen hated the thought of leaving her here in England, with the Germans invading and Myrcella, who had learned to shoot, because her father had taught her, wanted to stay behind to fight the Nazis and slept with her father's pistol under her pillow. The childrens' uncles had refused to return to the States with their sister; Jaime had immediately taken the King's shilling, along with a commission in the RAF and Tyrion, a well-known professor in Oxford, had offered his services to the government for the duration of the war.

As for Sansa, she had thought through her choices carefully. She could always take another job as a governess--in fact, her aunt Lysa wanted her to come to Switzerland, where she would be staying with cousin Robin, to tutor him. But she did not want to go to Switzerland--she wanted to be in an office, with other young girls like herself, and talk about the war and their families and boys. Aunt Lysa and Robin were living at the top of a mountain in Switzerland, in a house called the Eyrie--it sounded so lonely and cold. But her aunt wanted to get away from the war; she said both she and Robin could not abide the thought of bombs and air raids.

So when she signed up to work as a secretary in a government department, Sansa had seen herself working in London, travelling by the Tube, perhaps visiting her family in Scotland if she got time off. She did not see herself being sent off to Egypt, to work with an absent-minded professor who was determined to save Egypt's heritage from the marauding Nazis. She thought she was getting it easy while everyone else--her mother, Arya, the boys, Robb, Uncle Edmure, Granduncle Brynden, even the Lannister brothers--were actually contributing to the war effort. Yes, she knew the contents of the British Museum had been shipped off to safe quarters all over England, but come on--going to Egypt to stop the destruction of its archaeological heritage?

It was no consolation to Sansa that the professor for whom she worked, Jon Snow, was young, good-looking, with curly brown hair and a pouty mouth made for kissing, instead of being elderly, wrinkled, balding and thin-lipped, if not toothless! This was not war work--she was not helping her country win the war! She might as well have left with the Lannister-Baratheons for California...

However, she could not but be charmed by Egypt, which was not officially a British colony. The British navy's Mediterranean fleet was stationed in Alexandria, where Sansa lived and worked; so it was quite a common sight to find British sailors walking the streets. Their chief, she soon learned, was quite a martinet; he was Joffrey's uncle, his father's younger brother. It appeared the good admiral was not just strict with his sailors; he was just as angry with King Farouk, whom he called all sorts of names, for leaving the lights blazing in his palace while the city braved a blackout and for refusing to either send away his Italian servants or have them interned.

She spent her days with Professor Snow in dusty museum basements, ensuring that the antiquities of Egypt were properly stored against invasion and theft in the near future. Great Britain had faced and overcome the waves of German war planes sent to decimate the RAF; Jaime Lannister had been decorated for heroism. However, this did not mean that the threat was past; wave upon wave of British fighter planes were sent to bomb Germany, Arya wrote to tell her. She knew because she was friendly with a mechanic at the air force base close to Winterfell, at White Harbour. Robb, she told her sister, would soon be with her in Egypt, to fight the Germans. The Italians had been defeated, and now the Germans were coming to rescue their allies.

So while Robb and his comrades prepared to fight the Germans, who had struck deep inside Egypt, she and Jon Snow worked against time, packing up Egypt's heritage. There was no point, he said, shipping all this (he waved his hand, nearly knocking off a fine piece of pottery belonging to the Mameluk period) to England; it did not belong here, it belonged to the Egyptians. Sansa wondered aloud if they would appreciate British restraint; after all, she'd heard said that sympathy for the Germans was widespread amongst young people in Egypt.

"Of course it is, Miss Stark," Jon Snow explained patiently. "We might not make it as plain as day, but this is a British colony. We might have declared independence in '22, but..." he waved a finger in her face, "Sir Miles Lampson arranged for British troops and tanks to surround the king's palace when he served him an ultimatum. All our chickens," he said rather gloomily, "are coming home to roost..." 

Somehow, although she had thought he was rather an absent-minded person, he had quite impressed her with his grasp of what was happening in Egypt. He was not quite the woolly-headed professor she had thought him to be.

What truly impressed her about the professor was how well he got along with Robb and his fellow officers when they visited her at work before leaving for the front. He talked with them easily; she was somewhat surprised to learn from Robb, as he was leaving, that Jon Snow had been a schoolfellow of his, back in the day. "Of course, we lost touch," Robb said, when she looked surprised. "He went off to Oxford and I went to Sandhurst. I thought you might have run across him there?"

"How could I have? We hardly met any young men ... I was always too busy studying," she said rather irritably to her brother. And she did not think Dr Snow would have noticed her; she had studied modern languages and history, while his interests were focused on the ancient world.  


So she was rather surprised by Dr Snow's attentiveness to her after Robb went off to the front. He would insist that she spend the evening with him; he took it upon himself to take her to quaint and beautiful corners of the city, to show her its beauties. She was delighted to see such a different side to the country; of course, she had visited the souks with the few single women who lived and worked for the British government here, but they only wandered the markets in the daytime. Dr Snow took her into parts of the city where it would not have been advisable for her to venture, as a single woman; she learned to appreciate various aspects of Egypt's rich culture and cuisine. This was a country that had enjoyed a rich and vibrant civilization when her own countrymen had gone about clad in blue paint and little else.

It took her some time to realise this, but his taking her to all parts of the city meant that she worried less and less about Robb and how he was faring at the front. She still prayed for all members of her family, including Robb, but she did not fret for his welfare as she had when he had been away fighting in France. She had almost made herself ill with worry then; Myrcella and Tyrion had been concerned, and Tommen had taken it upon himself to tuck his favourite kitten into her bed. Before he left for the States, he had presented her and his uncles with a kitten each; Joffrey had threatened to drown the lot, rather than travel with them. She'd sent Lady Whiskers home to Mama; she would help control the mice in Winterfell. Ser Pounce was with Jaime and Boots with Tyrion. 

It took almost two years for the war in Egypt to end and for the Allies to defeat the Axis powers, as the Italians and then the Germans retreated. When the threat of war receded, Sansa and Jon (he was no longer Dr Snow to her, nor was she Miss Stark to him!) spent time in the basements of the museum unpacking and bringing back to the public the many archaeological treasures they had put away for safe-keeping. It was during this time that she realised how much she had begun to care for him, and she was delighted when, as their work began to draw to end, that he proposed to her. Robb joined them to give his blessing and urged them to marry as soon as possible, "because you never know in these times." They were inclined to agree with him and he was there to give her away at her wedding.


	3. The American Revolutionary's French Bride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> American revolutionary soldier Jon Snow meets lady of the court Sansa Stark in Versailles.  
> These characters belong to GRRM.

He stood out like a crow amongst peacocks and popinjays in Marie Antoinette's court. That was why her eye fell on him. She'd been sent to court by her maman, straight from the convent; that was why, Duchesse Cersei said, she was so very stupid. If she had lived at court almost from the age of eight or ten, as the duchesse had, she would have learned the ways of the world. As it was, the duchesse shrugged, she was almost as stupid as the Austrian woman. 

Sansa endured these jibes and taunts that the duchesse and her son, Comte Joffrey, threw her way every hour of every day as a matter of course; she was fortunate, as Sister Mordane, her favourite tutor in the convent had told her, to find such a well-connected husband, as her father was only a second son and a soldier, and her mother, although the daughter of a comte, was not a wealthy heiress, since her young brother was to inherit Grandpere's wealth. Perhaps that was why uncle Brandon had married Tante Barbrey and broken his engagement to her maman; she not only brought him the lands she had inherited as her father's heir but also her husband's estate. Sansa often wondered if that was the reason why her mother loved her father so--because he had saved her from the disgraceful condition of spinsterhood. Her aunt Lysa, Sister Mordane often reminded her, had made a mesalliance with a man who worked as a customs agent; a tax collector, no less! Although Uncle Petyr worked long and hard, he and Aunt Lysa lived simply and had only one child, who was clever and healthy enough to send to the Lycee Louis-le-Grande. So she should be thankful to God and the Blessed Virgin and the Saints that she was to wed the son of her father's comrade. Her sister Arya, Sister Mordane sniffed, would be lucky to wed a blacksmith!

So Sansa was delighted when Duchesse Cersei invited her to court. Of course, maman was worried about her wardrobe; she could not send her daughter to Versailles in clothes fit for a beggar. And yes, both Grandpere and Uncle Brandon did send money and she and her mother toiled for days together to get her clothes just right. But... the duchesse disapproved of her from the moment she arrived. Her clothes were too countrified; her manners were too warm and friendly; she should not spend so much time with the queen, whose circle, the duchesse implied, consisted of gamblers, rakes and licentious women. And Sansa must spend all day with the duchesse, who kept her busy with all kinds of foolish errands, from walking her dogs to sorting her silks. The only person in the duchesse's circle who was at all kind to Sansa was Joffrey's uncle Tyrion, who had been forced by his dwarfism to take to the priesthood, although he assured Sansa that he was too much a philosophe to believe in God. He made certain Sansa spent some time with the queen, by assuring the duchesse that since 'the Austrian woman' was also the queen of France, Sansa needed to stay in her good books, for the good of her own family (the Starks) as also for the Baratheons and Lannisters, her future in-laws.

And that is where Sansa was, in the queen's drawing room, doing her duty as a subject when in walked Jon Snow, dressed in black, with his unpowdered, curling brown hair falling on his shoulders and smiling only rarely. He had accompanied Monsieur Benjamin Franklin, the ambassador of the thirteen rebellious American colonies, to the French court, to ask for aid against Great Britain.

At first, the American colonists had few champions at the French court; almost everyone, barring Joffrey's Uncle Tyrion, the queen and the Comte d'Artois, believed that they were rebelling against a king who had been appointed by God to rule over them. However, Uncle Tyrion disagreed; he believed, as a philosopher, that kings could only rule over subjects if they fulfilled the social contract. Sansa had once asked him what the social contract was, and he had replied that kings should be just and fair to their subjects; protect them from harm, not only from their enemies but from the king's officials also and only then demand payment (as taxes) that would be an amount agreed upon by the king and the people's representatives. That, Uncle Tyrion assured her, was a rational mode of government.

The queen and her brother-in-law believed that, by intervening in American affairs, France would finally avenge herself for the defeats inflicted upon her by the British during the Seven Years' War. Which was why Jon Snow had accompanied Monsieur Franklin to see the queen.

Because Sansa was good at languages--she could not only speak her native French but also English and some German that the queen had taught her--she began to act as Jon Snow's interpreter. For although Monsieur Snow (he was a hunter and trapper on the frontier in peacetime, he told her; he hoped to buy some land and build a farm when war ended) had been taught Latin and Greek by his father, a Protestant minister, he knew no modern languages other than English. She accompanied him wherever he was invited--and he was invited everywhere, now that Uncle Tyrion and the queen and her brother-in-law were his principal supporters. Although the duchesse disapproved of rebellion, which was unsightly in the eyes of men and God, she hated to be out of fashion. And so, while Joffrey whiled away the hours in Paris, spending time with this opera dancer and that actress, Sansa ensured that Duchesse Cersei's drawing room was kept full and lively by bringing Jon Snow there at least once a week.  
Of course, she should never have forgotten that she was a woman already spoken for; that the marriage contract between herself and Joffrey had been drawn up by their fathers and would be signed by the two of them when Joffrey felt that he had tired of the fleshpots of Paris... But then, she received news that Duc Robert had died while hunting boar. He'd killed the beast that had gored him. And he had died burdened with debt, because he had spent freely on his pleasures; wine, women, cards, and food. 

Of course, Duchesse Cersei came from a wealthy family; her father was a banker, who had been ennobled by the present king's grandfather, who was unable to pay his debts any other way. But she was determined that she would not allow her son to wed the penniless daughter of a second son, not when the more eligible Mlle Margaery Tyrell, the only daughter of a wealthy farmer who supplied the court cellars, was yet unwed. 

Sansa would not have minded the end of her betrothal to Joffrey; he and his mother had been so very unkind to her that, although she had wanted to love them, she could not. And then there was the disgrace of going back home, with all that money from Uncle Brandon and Grandpere having done little to get her a marriage worthy of her rank, beauty and accomplishments. She would be seen as used goods, her aunt Lysa told her on learning of Joffrey's plans to break the betrothal, now that his father was dead and buried. Aunt Lysa had been visiting her son in Paris and had heard the rumours there. She had hastened to her niece in Versailles, before returning to Le Havre, to her husband.

"Of course, the Lannisters could wed you to someone else from their clan; there are many to choose from," said Aunt Lysa chattily. "There's Jaime, Duchesse Cersei's twin; he's unmarried and the Lannister heir. You would be wise to say yes if they offer you Jaime as a replacement for Joffrey; your mother will need the Lannister wealth to settle your brothers and sister. Of course, if he should just break the engagement and no Lannister appears on the horizon," she spoke more reluctantly now, "you could always marry Robin. He's almost finished his studies in law; he will practice in Paris and you should do very well, if you take care to practice economy. And don't look down your nose at me, my lady; beggars can't afford to be choosers!"

"Oh? Who's a beggar, then?" asked Uncle Tyrion, as he walked into the tiny room in which Sansa received visitors. She evaded the question gracefully by asking him if he had met her aunt Lysa. He said he had not had the pleasure, so she introduced the two of them. Aunt Lysa left soon afterwards, looking at her meaningfully as she went. And Uncle Tyrion repeated the question as soon as she had left. So Sansa had no choice but to tell him all.

He was lost in thought for some time before he spoke. "I don't think you should look upon the breaking of your betrothal with my detestable nephew as a disaster, Sansa. I'm quite certain that, with his assiduous pursuit of opera girls, actresses and women of the demi-monde, he will be unable to appreciate what you offer--a home filled with affection and warmth." He spoke feelingly; he had lost his mother when young and Sansa fancied that neither the duchesse nor her father had shown him much love when he was growing up.

"As for marrying Jaime, " he continued, " don't even think of it. He has only one woman on his mind and that will never be you. He spends hardly any time at the counting house--he used the money my father gave him to buy himself a commission to serve in the king's corps of guards and stay close to Cersei. You will be sent off to the family estates and be expected to produce a brace of heirs, while he stays at court. However, if you were to use your wits, you would do very well for yourself and your family... if you would care to listen to me."

Sansa, who had every reason to be grateful to him for his many kindnesses to her, begged him to advise her and he continued, "Monsieur Snow is eager to return home, to fight the English. The king will send French soldiers with him; your father and your eldest brother will be of the party. Your mother and your younger brothers and sister (I understand) have always travelled with him, so why should you not accompany them? I have, of course, put in my own request to join the contingent as their chaplain."

When she looked at him, puzzled, he elaborated further. " My dear Sansa, I have seen the manner in which Monsieur Snow looks at you. I think he sees you, in his mind's eye, presiding over his household..."

"How can you say that? He knows I'm betrothed to Joffrey--I told him so myself! And me, marry a Protestant? What would maman and papa and Grandpere say?" 

"I think," he cut her short quite firmly, " that he will make you an excellent match. He is well-educated and hard-working; I think he esteems you excessively and will make you an excellent husband. And I think," he finished, "that your parents and siblings will agree with me. You see, I have already written to your father; I told him how my sister and nephew treated you. And I told him of Monsieur Snow. And I have encouraged--yes, my dear girl--Joffrey's suit for the hand of Mlle Tyrell. That girl will take charge of him in such a way that Cersei will not realise what has happened. I think you deserve better. And yes, I almost forgot to tell you--I told Monsieur Snow that Joffrey was going to break his betrothal to you, now that his father is no more. Monsieur Snow was most indignant, indeed wroth, on your behalf. Until I mentioned to him that your family had never approved of the connection. They had only agreed because Robert, poor fellow, was your father's childhood friend and your oldest brother's godfather. He seemed to brighten up immediately when I said this; I think he might even propose this evening! You are meeting him, are you not, at the queen's soiree, hmmm?"

Some fifteen years later, as Sansa sat at her hearth, listening to her husband read a weeks-old newspaper, she was glad she had taken Tyrion's advice. Her parents and brothers and Arya had immediately liked Jon; they had detested Joffrey when they had first met him. And they were not worried about his being a Protestant, because he was quite agreeable to her continuing to practice her faith and bring her children up in it, if she should so choose. 

Her parents and siblings had fallen in love with the thirteen colonies when they landed. It was true that life was difficult here; but now they could buy land, their own land! Arya had quite taken to a young blacksmith who had set up a forge near the local inn; Robb and her father and the boys had staked out a plot where they would farm and build a home. Her mother was glad to be settled at last; no more moving from one camp to another with Papa. 

And Tyrion had stayed on, to advise the young nation on how to deal with the rest of the world. His knowledge of languages, history, the sciences and philosophy, which made him such a delightful companion in Sansa's eyes, had amazed the American lawyers and farmers he met. He had visited Monticello, Monsieur Thomas Jefferson's home in Virginia--the two of them were known to talk of many things, from one dawn to another, without enjoying a wink of sleep.

And she had married Jon--they were the proud parents of three children. Their oldest, young Tyrion, was the spitting image of Robb; Lyanna, named after Jon's mother, took after Arya in looks but her mother in temperament, while little Ben, although he looked as solemn and unsmiling as Jon and her father, had a wicked dry wit that made his mother chuckle at all he said and did. And yes, she was a very happy woman.


	4. Giovanni's Lady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Sansa in Renaissance Italy.  
> These characters belong to GRRM.

Giovannino had grown up alongside the children of Il Magnifico, in Florence. He was not treated as anyone special; he was given all that the Medici children enjoyed--good food, fine clothes, a warm bed, a comfortable home and an excellent education. All he lacked for was a mother's love and care. He knew little of her; she had died to give him birth. The Medicis seldom spoke of her, except to say that she came from the north. His father, a distant blood relative, had been sent to Scotland to negotiate a treaty with the king of that country; he had returned home with a noble Scottish bride, some fourteen or fifteen years of age, who had died within a year. His father had also died while defending Lorenzo's brother against his assassins. And since his father had no family worth the name, but for an aged, crazed father cared for by the priests, Il Magnifico had taken him into his household.

Giovannino could have been quite content with his lot, if it had not been for Piero, Il Magnifico's son and heir, who took great pleasure in reminding him of all he owed the Medicis and how he would personally throw him out of the palazzo when his father died. Giovannino listened to him in silence and threw himself into his studies with greater energy; he would, he swore, not starve or do Il Magnifico discredit if flung into the world to live by his wits.

It did not take long for the great man to notice the diligent young boy and promote him to a position at his side. Giovannino was grateful for this. It was at Lorenzo's side that he met Lord Stark and his two daughters, Sansa and Arya, when that great Scottish noble came to negotiate a loan on behalf of his king with the Medici.

When he met the Starks, he was struck by my lord's gravity; he never seemed to smile. Or perhaps it was difficult to detect the quirk of his lips beneath his heavy beard. Lady Sansa was truly impressed by Florence; it was known that she had visited all the places of note in the city. Lady Arya was not so easily impressed; she complained that the city stank of shit, even though she was swiftly shushed into silence by their duenna and preceptress. 

Giovannino soon found Lady Arya at the practice yard; she did not sit to one side, like her sister, working on her embroidery and gossipping with the other women there as the men and boys practiced the arts of war. She shot arrow after arrow into the target and hit the bulls-eye each time. Giovannino was impressed and congratulated her on her skill. He was charmed by this wild little girl, only nine years old, who missed her home keenly and spoke very poor Italian. Her sister spoke Italian, Latin, French and English well, albeit with a slight Scottish burr that added a certain charm to all she said. She was even keen to learn Greek, although Giovannino warned her it was hard. Her younger sister seemed more interested in learning how to fight with a rapier; she even persuaded Giovannino, against his better judgement, to teach her.

This last angered Lady Sansa greatly. "Giovannino, have you any idea how difficult it is to even get Arya to sit down and sew like a lady? And now you are teaching her to use steel, like a roadside bravo? God and the Saints and Our Lady help me, but you have very little sense, sir! You are encouraging her to be a hoyden!"

Giovannino laughed. For all her words of worldly wisdom, Lady Sansa was not more than a maid of twelve or thirteen years of age. She was at that interesting stage in her life when she was leaving girlhood behind to become a woman. She knew just how to address everyone in Florence; she even managed to impress Piero's snobbish Colonna bride with her courtesy and learning and accomplishments. And yet, she was eager to learn.  
It was not long after she came to Florence that he began to sketch her, again and again; at her sewing, at prayer, plucking a flowering bough, cutting a fruit, playing with a bird or a cat or a dog... in short, doing all she did. Everyone teased him about it. He was not a bad artist--it was true that he was not as talented as the Buanorotti boy or Leonardo, but he was quite competent at what he did. 

Of course, all the boys accused him of being in love with the eldest Stark girl. The younger one, they were all agreed, was too skinny and brown-haired and long-faced and tomboyish for love; she was more likely to join you in climbing a tree to hunt bird's eggs than to inspire a sonnet or a sentiment. As for her sister, although she was on the cusp between girlhood and womanhood, she was truly beautiful, with her red-gold hair, her vivid blue eyes, her fair skin that flushed with pleasure when you complimented her and her slender figure, which was gradually acquiring the curves and contours of womanhood. 

It was not long for the news of his interest in the eldest Stark girl, and his friendship with the younger one, to reach the ears of Lord Stark and Il Magnifico. However, far from being displeased, the two men agreed that Giovanni could wed Lady Sansa when she came of age in two or three years. He had learned much in Florence, and Lord Stark felt he would be of great use to him in Scotland. So Piero, much to his displeasure, was thwarted of his desire to throw Giovanni out of the Medici residence on the death of his father.


End file.
